“What is it?” asked Roland (our friend from Australia) as he looked at the big Pyrex dish filled with Baked Banana Surprise.

“Well,” I answered rather surprised (because I thought it was quite obvious what it was). “This is the wonderful pudding that Chris’s mother used to make – only I’ve never made it before, but Chris thought about it the other day when I made a Toad in the Hole and he asked me to make it the next time we have old bananas that need using up.”

“So it’s Banana in the Hole?” suggested our friend.

“Yes, no, it’s Banana Surprise,” I replied (the latter sounded much more appetising).

“I didn’t say it was a ‘wonderful pudding'”, interrupted Chris (after looking at the Banana Surprise), “I simply said that my mother used to put bananas in the batter and we all loved it – the way she did it, anyway – and I thought it might be a change from banana fritters.” (We have banana fritters every three years or so!)

“Banana fritters?” Roland’s eyes lit up.

“Well, I would have made fritters if it hadn’t been for Chris’s request for Banana in the Hole,” I blamed Chris for the disappointment.

Roland smiled and tried to hide his disappointment.

“Well at least it has risen!” Chris cajoled.

“But it looks soggy. Maybe I shouldn’t have cut the bananas in half. How did your mum do it?” I turned to Chris.

“I’m not sure but it didn’t look like that. Mum’s batter was crisp, light and golden brown, and the bananas were soft moist and glistening…”

“Not like mine then?”

“Your batter is perhaps a little thicker than Mum’s, but I’m sure yours will taste just as nice,” Chris searched desperately for something good to say (perhaps lest I should threaten never to cook again).

I cut a large portion of the steaming banana feast and popped it into Chris’s bowl. I topped it with a similarly large dollop of ice-cream, which instantly began to melt and drip over the stodgy, batter hole. Seeing the expression on Roland’s face, I decided to cut him a slightly smaller piece; and, mindful of my figure, I cut a small section for myself.

“You don’t have to eat it,” I recommended after my first mouthful.

“It tastes alright, just not quite so light and airy as Mum’s,” said Chris breezily.

“Or as sweet,” I added, “although I sprinkled the top with sugar.”

“Really?” asked Roland dubiously.

“Maybe we could scrape out the bananas and leave the batter?” wondered Chris and he proceeded to scrape out one of the limp grey bananas.

“They look like the poisonous grey bits in crabs – aren’t they called ‘dead man’s fingers’ Roland?” I asked.

Roland nodded and looked very impish. His shoulders went up around his ears and his eyes glinted mischievously; his contorted mouth was about to crack open and suddenly he could not contain himself any longer… Chris saw it and I saw it too… We all burst out laughing together.

“Well, I’m not going to try that recipe again when I go on Masterchef,” I said. And then I found my mobile phone camera…